



–photos by me




–photos by me

It looks like our winter thaw is over; below-zero temps are in the forecast for later this week. I’m hoping that the colder temps will bring clearer skies, as it’s been greyer than Gandalf’s beard around here with all the fog and clouds. There’s been nothing to take photos of, especially now with all the migrating birds gone–so I have to get creative.
all in the same boat,
we appear to be heading
for second winter
–photo (double exposure) by me

snowflakes come swirling
as gentle winds blow
whirling and twirling
they sway to and fro
it’s all so entrancing
we let ourselves go
dancing and prancing
like ponies in snow
–photo by me

as of late,
i meditate
when life
becomes a mess;
i close my eyes
and visualize
the road
to happiness.
as i walk,
i think and talk,
and when
i’ve found my way,
i sometimes find
a little sign
saying write
a poem today.
–photo by me




–photos by me

there’s a mix-up at dawn
between skies and cars:
now the skies have paint
and the cars have stars
–photo by me

We had big plans for a pleasant Sunday drive yesterday, but the fog we’d expected to lift only got thicker as we went. Our target was the Sax-Zim bog, known among bird-watchers for its owl sightings, but as a retired truck-driver, I knew how dangerous fog can be, and I started to have second thoughts. That was the first strike against us.
We were carefully tip-toeing along when it came over the radio that there had been a terrible wreck about 20 miles ahead. Three young people were dead. That was the second strike, and yet we proceeded.
About a mile further we came upon a vehicle rolled over in the ditch. Fortunately, its occupants had already been rescued, but that was it–strike three! Okay, Universe, I get the hint.
We turned around right there and went home. I often go the extra mile for a good shot, but I also try to make sure it’s not my last. There would be no owls on this adventure.

–Photos by me

do we choose our paths
or are they predetermined?
depends on our age
–photo by me

the eagle kicks back in her nest
and in a few weeks she’ll be blessed
as her clutch of eggs hatch–
yet there’s always this catch:
as a mom, she will see no more rest
–photo by me
My son Aaron and I took a trip to the (Mesabi) Iron Range in Northeast Minnesota the other day to check out one of the largest open-pit mines in the world, the Hull-Rust Mine near Hibbing. Although I worked on the other end of the range, this was the first time I visited the Hull-Rust.

Seeing the 240 ton production trucks really brought me back. I’d spent a good chunk of my life in one of them, and, in fact, almost lost my life in one.

On a midnight shift back in the 90’s, the catskinner accidentally backed me up under high-voltage power lines, and when I raised the box, night became day as 100,000+ volts coursed through my truck. The windshield and gauges blew out, the tires blew, and after I managed to get out, the whole truck burst into flames. I was ok, but it was a million-dollar loss for the mine.

Standing here today, I must say that we sure dug some big holes in the ground.

I never thought I’d say this, but I do miss it… a little.
–Photos by me